


Identities

by Applesith



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Badass Rey, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Rating May Change, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9118816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesith/pseuds/Applesith
Summary: Snoke sealed Rey and Kylo Ren in what appears to be a Sith tomb. Only one winner can come out alive unless they unite to destroy a common enemy.-----------------------------------------------------Your usual ‘Rey and Kylo are stuck somewhere, what’s gonna happen?' kind of fic. With a twist. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)





	1. Sealed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syonyxie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syonyxie/gifts), [Somaybelikeno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somaybelikeno/gifts).



> *Throws all the kudos to Syonyxie and Somaybelikeno for being amazing betas
> 
> I originally wrote this story in January 2016 and started publishing it on AO3 in March. To put it bluntly, it was poorly executed and I always felt terrible about it. Now that I'm being serious about improving my writing skills I sat down, looked at it and thought "Okay, how can I make it better?". I then recruited two fantastic betas who do not sugarcoat their feedback and here we are today.

She moved through the shadows in silence, anchoring herself to the walls as best as she could despite her sweaty palms and the blood pounding at her temples. His black silhouette remained invisible, lost in an ocean of darkness below, but his presence enveloped her like a shroud, and she wasn’t ready to get down and face him yet.

Trying to remember what happened after her abduction from Ahch-To only brought nausea and a sharp pain, like a beamdrill at the back of her head. She had visions of bright lights, clashing sounds, and a humming. A terrible voice, like the void itself calling to her, and a battle? She shook her head. Best to concentrate on the present for now anyway. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t get her out of this place.

Master Luke lived. That, at least, was a certainty, and it gave her hope for the future. However, the realization bore more questions than answers. Had he been captured as well, or had he managed to escape?

With no guarantee her mentor would ever find her again, she secured her footing and leapt to the nearest cranny, calling onto the Force to give her the push she needed to avoid falling to her death or worse, right into Kylo Ren’s arms.

A short breath escaped her when the ledge crumbled beneath her boot. For what seemed an eternity she scrambled to regain her balance, cursing wordlessly at the Force, at Kylo Ren, and at whomever had left her on Jakku. It would be a miracle if her nemesis hadn’t spotted her by now.

She shut her eyes tight and held her breath. Would she suddenly be pulled into the abyss by an invisible power or would the enemy emerge from the shadows to skewer her with that dreadful red blade of his? To her surprise and relief, nothing happened, so she kept going until her fingers went tight and hot.

At long last, she reached a space wide enough to sit down and rest, and glanced around to try and make sense of her surroundings. To say her captors had a flair for the dramatic would be an understatement. The crypt was pitch black, except for occasional rays of light that peered through apertures in the cavernous ceiling. Whoever the owner of this sepulcher had been, he (or she) must have exercised enough power, on top of being pretentious, to have their tomb carved right into the mountain. On either side of the passageway, severe and rigid in cloaks of stone, giant statues cast frightful expressions to inspire awe and fear in the hearts of visitors. She couldn’t name the race they represented, but they were humanoid enough to convey that they had nothing but contempt for the living unfortunate enough to roam these empty halls.

Something dark lingered among them, something terrible and ancient. The stern figures wanted her to feel defeated, alone and scared, but something at the heart of her defied their silent judgment. They knew nothing about her upbringing if they believed she would give up so easily.

A smile formed at the corner of her mouth. Wherever light was touching the ground below, vegetation was flourishing, engulfing the stone and creeping towards the sun. Indifferent to the laws of man, nature could reclaim the most sterile environment. Inch-by-inch, patiently. How did that happen? Could it be that a solitary seed, carried in by the wind, had fallen on the floor of this harsh and cold habitat centuries ago, and decided to take root against all odds? Or had it been transported by adventurers looking for treasures? Perhaps even dark apprentices in search of power, unaware that they were carrying life on their dusty cloaks? The idea that life will always find a way gave her courage.

She looked down before catching hold of a trailing plant that spread its large green-and-reddish foliage against the wall, testing that it wouldn’t give way under her weight. In order to progress in the dark without her usual equipment, she made use of the Force as much as her own eyes, jumping gracefully from corners to ledges. The knowledge that Kylo Ren waited patiently below for her to make a mistake added urgency to her every move.

Thankfully, climbing here wasn’t much different than climbing a derelict destroyer back on Jakku. The walls weren’t oxidized metal, but a dense stone that felt rough under her palms. However, the principle remained the same: ensure you have grip, find the right balance, reach for your next target, and first and foremost, never envision the fall.

Eventually, an opening in the ceiling appeared above her. She looked up scanning for an escape route but saw none. The gap between the top of the statue and the crack in the ceiling spread too wide. Jumping would only result in a painful death.

If only she’d found ropes and tools, she would be out of this tomb and twisted mind game in no time! But her kidnappers had left her equipped with only a lightsaber and her wits.

Below, an awful humming started off, followed by a burst of red light slashing through the dark. She clutched the stone tighter, trying to make herself as flat as possible, and held her breath. Had he finally sensed her presence?

A few seconds passed and, as before, nothing happened. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the man had jumped at his own shadow.

She exhaled slowly before resuming her progression into the unknown. As impressive as this mausoleum was, she reckoned that soon they would reach a dead end, leaving them only two options: continue playing hide and seek until one of them died of starvation, or fight.

Her jaw clenched in determination. She needed to prepare herself.

* * *

After the loss of Starkiller base, Snoke had resumed their training, demonstrating the power of the dark side, before offering guidance and words of wisdom. The physical pain endured during their long sessions of sparring was nothing. The Supreme leader’s words always cut deeper than blades.

_“Such a disappointment.”_

These had been Snoke’s first words to him when he had regained consciousness on board a shuttle, bare-faced, bloodied, defeated and overwhelmed. To add injury to the insult Hux, the simpleton, towered over him with a mixed look of disdain, disgust and something like…amusement?

To Malachor with him! No doubt that force choking that smug rat-face would considerably improve his mood, but killing the General would only anger his master further.  Besides, teaching Hux a lesson would accomplish nothing. His time, like the others, would come. Later.

Instead, he managed to sit up, feigning ignorance of the gaping wound on his side. Embracing the pain was the only way he knew how to remind the despicable ginger that he, Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, surpassed him, his officers, and the band of stolen children that he called soldiers. Hux ought to remember that.

He turned his mouth into a grin and tasted the blood trickling down his burning face.

The General’s already pale complexion turned as white as the snow on Starkiller base as he moved aside, retreating to a corner of the shuttle in a hurry.

Message received loud and clear, so it seemed.

The pain had been excruciating, though, and he probably would’ve passed out if he hadn’t called on the Force to refrain from screaming his lungs out. Pain still tasted better than humiliation.

_“I have failed you, my apprentice.”_

_“No. I… I did not follow your advice. I should have listened to you.”_

They didn’t need to face one another to communicate when necessary. Snoke was always there, somewhere, at the back of his head.

_“Once your training is complete, you will not fail again. This, I promise.”_

As always, the Supreme Leader had been true to his words.

He knew the scavenger followed him from above, and that she’d claimed the higher ground from the start. Patience was all he needed. Like a fruit when ripe, she would fall at his feet. He had prepared for this moment. His determination would not falter. He would not throw away more than twenty years of his life, his destiny, for a girl, a nobody, with no roots and no future.

“Compassion,” Snoke had told him in the assembly chamber. Although only a few weeks had passed, it felt like a distant memory already.

The Supreme leader had it wrong about that fateful day anyway. It wasn’t compassion. It was curiosity.

Until he met her, everything had been perfectly aligned, laid out, predictable, right. Then, something unforeseen had happened. He needed to know, he wanted to understand why Snoke himself had not perceived the scavenger to be such an important piece of the puzzle until she’d defeated him. Humiliated him.

Things changed. Snoke’s last spoken words before he embarked to Ahch-To with his Knights left no room for interpretation: it did not matter who came out victorious at the end of the day. Either way, the new Jedi would be destroyed. Luke had lost his brightest student once more, and with her, his last hope to rebuild the Jedi.

Although he had made peace with the idea his life meant naught to Snoke a long time ago, he couldn’t help but wonder if Rey, the scavenger, could ever truly supplant him at his mentor’s side. She was powerful and fierce, but the light inside her burned too bright. Him? He was born to rule and impose his will upon others. Her? She came from a backwater world and only knew how to take care of herself.

Snoke didn’t want – didn’t need– a desert rat, did he? How many times the Supreme leader cooed about the birthright of the heir of Darth Vader? On the other hand, the scavenger? Nothing special. Just an anomaly, a mistake of the Force. Killing her would simply adjust the natural order.

His train of thoughts was interrupted when the end of the hallway appeared. Before him stood a gaping maw of darkness.

He ignited his saber, producing just enough light to study his surroundings, when he noticed a flight of stairs descending to what must have been the final resting place of the tomb’s long-dead, long-forgotten owner. Like numerous times before, Snoke hadn’t confided in him the reasons why he had specifically chosen this place for his ultimate test. Only one thing mattered. The scavenger would die here, and he would finally be complete. With any luck, Han Solo would also stop haunting his sleepless nights.

He’d taken his last step down the stairs when a thousand-year-old mechanism came to life in an alarming scream of rusty cogs and an ominous rumbling beneath his feet. Chains moved far above him, and a faint beam of light appeared, piercing through a circular opening similar to an iris. It was just enough to illuminate the sarcophagus sitting on top of an elevated platform in the middle of the room. A simple square box with no carving, no name, no epitaph.  
  
A mystery. An invitation.


	2. Who’s the hunter and who’s the prey?

She needed a plan. One that didn’t involve a frontal approach. It didn’t look promising from where she hid.

Despite their rocky beginning, she recognized that Master Luke was a good teacher, overflowing with kindness and wisdom and that, from the moment she presented him with Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber, the Force had been an integral part of her life and identity. The problem lay elsewhere.

Her training was incomplete. Her understanding of the Force; limited. Worse, she lacked restraint. Living on Jakku required endurance, wits, and perseverance whereas joining the Jedi required discipline, patience, and peace of mind. On the backwater world she once considered home she’d managed to preserve her purity and humanity out of the sheer hope that someday, her family would come back. For fifteen years, hope had shielded her heart from horror, cruelty, passion and despair. Jakku hardened her body as much as her spirit. "Practicality over philosophy" may as well be carved over Niima outpost's rusty gates.

During the brief period she’d spent on Ahch-To the old Jedi master confided in a low spoken voice that, before their fall, the Order only sought the youngest of the galactic species in apprenticeship. Older students lost themselves too easily to their new-found powers, lured by the dark side.

When diving into the washed-out icy blue of Luke's eyes over dinner that night she'd glimpsed doubts, old nightmares, and hidden pain. After that, she'd finally accepted that practicing meditation was as important, if not more, than learning how to hold a lightsaber to defeat Kylo Ren.

A shiver ran through her body. The idea that Luke himself remained afraid of the temptations, of the fall, wasn't reassuring. Today, if she tapped into the dark side again, would she be strong enough to resist? From the cover of the shadows, she shook her head and took a long breath before peeking inside the burial chamber, with the faint hope that her nemesis had vanished.

He had not.

For the past hour or so, Kylo Ren sat immobile on top of the sarcophagus with his arms resting on his knees, his signature lightsaber unignited, but ready at hand. Was he meditating, sleeping, or taunting her?

The stone dug deeper into her shoulder blades and the buns absorbed the shock when the back of her head met the wall out of frustration. Her patience was wearing thin.

If he had noticed her presence, he showed no sign of it. She expected him to twitch or jerk at any moment now, to betray his state of mind. Seeing him like this brought back memories of their duel in the snowy forest of Starkiller base. Back then he was raw, on edge, hurt and wounded.

How things were different now.

Today, he acted like a motionless machine, no more different than the droids who only ever turned on when their masters demanded it. If she wanted to defeat him she needed to make peace with herself and with the Force. On Jakku she’d avoided contact with the rest of the scavengers because she knew that deep down, despite her good heart, she would do whatever it took in order to survive. More often than not, the unspoken rule small people like her lived by on the outer rim planets was to kill or be killed.

She sighed. Killing, even in self-defense, wasn't something she yearned for, but to come out alive from this fight and this tomb today, she needed to trust her instincts.

To regain focus, she tried to remember the face of the young man under the mask.

On numerous occasions, she’d wanted to ask Luke about his fallen apprentice. How a young, talented, loved and respected man could turn his back so easily on the light? The question had died on the tip of her tongue every time. His pain contained more answers than his words.

All she knew was that, under the disguise, Ren was a man made of flesh like herself. He was also the man who, not so long ago, had taken the life of his own father and tried to kill her friends. That thought alone made her angry.

Their blades lit up simultaneously.

 

* * *

 

He had opened up completely and locked onto her presence before she even dared to peek inside the chamber. This time, to avoid detection, he’d been careful not to invade her mind, lingering on the surface of things. In this state, deciphering her thoughts was impossible, but her feelings merged with his own, like an echo. The scavenger couldn't hide her true intentions.

Snoke had insisted on this part of the training and suddenly years of his life made sense. Now, he understood how the Supreme leader read him like an open book.

Her rage was so different from his. Colder, deadlier. She aimed to crawl out of this tomb, even if that meant taking the life of another human being. His life.

He smirked.

She was no different from the rest of them after all. Unlike her, he wouldn’t rejoice from taking her life. There would be no welcome back party when he returns, no tight embraces, no drinks spilled over his victory. No one would ever tell, embellish, or exaggerate stories about how the heroic Knight slaid the misguided enemy of the First Order. To steal someone's last breath gave him no pleasure or sense of accomplishment. I was merely a necessity. A means to an end.

To his dismay, she didn't attack first. Instead, she tried to remain calm and composed while descending into the pit of the chamber. She marched towards the platform slowly and deliberately, adopting a defensive stance that Luke Skywalker had taught him too, a long, long time ago. To anybody else, she would have appeared dangerous and lethal. To him, in this instant, she looked like a child trying to convince herself that the monsters under her bed were not real. He sensed her hands were not as steady as they should be, and that she felt weak at her knees. A part of him wanted to encourage her, to bid her feel the Force flowing from tip to toes, to give her advice on how to improve her posture. The other part, the stronger part, wanted to get rid of the nuisance and distraction she represented.

He leaped towards her like a crazed animal and their blades met in a thunderous roar. Power ran through his veins like lava on Mustafar. A cruel smile formed on his lips when the scavenger gasped in surprise. In two moves he forced her further down into the chamber, cutting her access to the stairs and trapping her. Her panic filled his senses. How exhilarating to experience his dominance and her helplessness at the same time.

 

* * *

 

She looked around frantically for an escape route. Four giant statues sat at each corner of the room, bowing their heads in submission to the master of the tomb. If she could use the Force to dislodge one of them from its pedestal, she may have had a chance to make it out of there alive. That plan might fail, though. Kylo Ren's relentless attacks gave her little room to concentrate and focus. Moreover, levitating rocks and twelve-foot tall stone effigies required different levels of power.

She closed her eyes.

On her second day on Ahch-To, Master Luke asked her to throw pebbles from the beach into the sea. "With your mind," he added, before returning to his hut. Later, when he discovered her with a wide grin on her face, floating a rock as big as a pilot’s helmet, the look of displeasure on his face paralyzed her.

She assumed he would be impressed, pleased to see his new pupil was such a quick learner, but instead he used the words smug and complacent. After that, she always followed his instructions to the letter. Becoming a Jedi sure wasn’t as much fun as she’d envisioned.

A vicious Force blow to her stomach took her breath and concentration away.

Before the awakening, everything came to her so naturally. On Jakku she never thought twice. Things changed after her brief training on Ahch-To. Her confidence shriveled, and nowadays she feared falling to the dark side more than death.

A prick at the back of her neck informed her to stay lucid. Something evil was lurking in this tomb. Something far worse than Kylo Ren. She needed to be careful, cautious.


	3. One must die

Hesitation. Panic. Inadequacy.  If he wasn't swinging his lightsaber in her direction with all his strength to cut her head off, he might have paused and let her know he felt it too. 

He didn't waste energy getting into her head. Her emotions came crashing into his instead, oozing from every pore of her lithe body. Waves after waves of insecurities. He sneered at the scavenger. Only a few weeks with Skywalker and already she was damaged. What a pity. It was her choice, however. She had chosen her path, and so had he, years ago.

His grip tightened, and he lunged forward. His Jedi years were not forgotten. The long hours of meditation, the physical and mental exhaustion of controlling your emotions; becoming strong with the Force while remaining humble.

Stronger. Humbler. Bitter.

Luke Skywalker wasn’t the teacher Rey needed. If fate decided she came out victorious of their duel, Snoke would transform her into her a great warrior. He would unleash her true potential. Of course, he would break her first. Her light would be consumed until only a tiny spark kept burning at the back of her heart, a vestige, a testimony of things that once were and things that could have been. The Supreme leader knew the right words. For a fraction of a second, he flinched. Much to his amazement the scavenger saw an opening and attacked. Clumsy, but perceptive for such an under trained student. As he parried the blow, he took two steps back, finally leaving her some room to breath. The ghost of a smile formed on her pink lips before evolving into a grimace. What she lacked in finesse, she made up for in her wild instinct, but her confidence was tainted with desperation, a dangerous cocktail for someone who had rejected the dark. Unless?

The hair at the back of his neck stood up. Snoke had shown no intention to witness their duel today, yet someone, or something, was whispering in her ear. Their words were unavailable to him, but they guided her hand when she sprung. Her next blow hit hard. Back on Starkiller base he had basked in her power and admired her serenity, but also experienced her wrath. Hard lessons were taught and learned, carved into his flesh as a reminder of his failure. He wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes this time. He needed to defeat the scavenger. The girl needed to die once and for all.  

He called the Force and finally lashed out. The energy he had repressed to this point burst out of his body like a shockwave. In response, her body flew like a rag doll and landed onto the platform. She yelped when her back met with the sarcophagus, then became limp. A triumphant smile appeared under the mask. The pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together. His place at the center of the universe would soon be restored, and the scavenger would return to the nothingness where she belonged.

He landed gracefully onto the dais and looked her eyes flutter in shock. One kick and Anakin’s lightsaber flew to the opposite side of the room. He turned off his weapon and approached languidly. Curiosity killed the Loth-cat his mother told him once.

He needed to know. He wanted to know.

 

In one powerful movement, he grabbed her by the neck with his left hand and threw her on top of the sarcophagus. She tried to fight back, her small hands scratching at the black leather of his glove, but she was weakened and frightened. Her legs were dangling, kicking in the air in a desperate attempt to escape. The presence that had guided her hand moments before had vanished, leaving her to die alone. For a brief moment, he considered ending her life here. He wasn't the monster she believed he was after all.

The urge to understand who she was and how she had defeated him was stronger. His left hand still firmly clutching at her neck, he leaned over. Her eyes were moving rapidly behind her eyelids, tears of frustration --or resignation-- streaming down her cheeks. He was so close that her labored breathing fogged his mask. If he applied Snoke’s teachings; if he pushed away his feelings, embraced the whole of her, he would finally know. What was she feeling right now? Who was she?  

  
Pushing deeper, his mind slipped inside hers.

* * *

 

She tried to call her lightsaber, but it didn’t bulge. She was about to die, and there was nothing she could do to prevent her fate. Not anymore. For a brief moment during the fight, "something" or someone had talked to her. It had felt alien against her conscience, but it seemed useful like an hydrospanner or a plasma torch. "Is it not what you need?" it had whispered, "when your equipment breaks, don't you use tools to repair it?  A tool is my gift to you".

A "gift." If Jakku had taught her one thing, it is that nothing ever comes for free. Everything is for sale or trade, and everyone tries to screw you over a ration, a sip of water, your freedom or your dignity.

The thing trying to bargain a way out of this tomb couldn't be trusted. She would rather die than let it take control. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes. She didn't want to die. The Force had cursed her the moment she rescued BB-8. She wanted to see the faces of her friends again. She wanted to say good-bye. She wanted to say I love you. She wanted to find her family. She wanted to explore the whole of the galaxy, to dance under the rain, to taste exotic fruits and to create treasures of discarded things. Instead, she was going to die in a dusty old tomb. Perhaps it was for the best? Dying free was better than becoming a puppet, to be used and discarded.

Kylo Ren was so close she could see her breath fogging up his mask. She should have been angry at him for killing her, but do you blame the blaster? A tool. That's all he was. Mute and cold like a droid. “Is the price worth it?” she asked herself before closing her eyes for good.

He loosened his grip, and she choked on the sensation of the air circulating in her lungs again. For the briefest moment, their fingers brushed on her throat. At her feet Kylo Ren was now struggling to unlatch his mask, his hands shaky and unsteady. When he finally managed to remove the apparatus he threw it as far as he could and looked at her, terrified. As he was trying to crawl away from her, she looked back at him, still trying to catch her breath.

Her eyes widen at his appearance: flushed, panting, disheveled and covered in sweat, a ghastly scar marking his face. Just a boy who woke up from a nightmare, afraid of the dark. Before she could flee this cursed place, a baritone voice erupted from the shadows. “Well, that was an unexpected turn of events.”

Both jumped, heads turning in perfect synchronicity to where the sound came.

A man was approaching. He took an instant to pick up something from the floor before pacing toward the circle of light. He stopped, choosing to stay hidden in the cover of the darkness. It was too dark to see his face, but she sensed he was human, well built and strong with the Force. How did he go unnoticed?

“What happened, Master of the Knights of Ren? You were that close of completing your training.” The way he spoke was deliberate, his articulation perfect, every word he used picked-up carefully.

“Who...who are you?” she managed to ask, her voice broken and coarse after having her windpipe almost crushed.

“I’m here to make sure one of you finishes the job,” the man responded with a hint of contempt. “Catch girl!” he added before throwing something in her direction. It was her lightsaber.

“The Supreme Leader was right again. Your sentimentality will crush you like it crushed your grandpop in the end.” He paused, waiting for Kylo Ren to react. “Or, you could kill her once and for all.”

Kylo Ren was still sprawled at her feet, seemingly unresponsive to the stranger’s taunts. It would be so easy to stab him in the back from where she stood. But what then? She had very little intel about the structure and hierarchy of the First Order. How many more men were hiding in the darkness? How many were waiting outside?

“Honestly, I don’t care who comes back with me.” They could not see his body language but they could tell he was shrugging. ”I would rather you decide quickly. This place is...unsettling”

He was met by another long silence.

“Please?”

Rey did not know what was the most disconcerting. His eagerness to see them kill one another or the lightness of the tone he employed. Even Kylo Ren seemed to treat murder like it was something serious. She needed to do something quickly, before the situation got out of control.

The knight of Ren’s body language changed. He stood up on his feet and straightened up. What he did next took Rey completely by surprise. Without shifting his attention from the intruder, he pushed her unceremoniously off the platform before igniting the weapon he had recovered at her feet. She fell hard on the floor and gasped for she was more confused than hurt.

“You don’t want to fight me, Kylo Ren. What would be the point? Only one of you can come out alive. You know that. You’ve seen the future. You know how it ends. Take what is yours while you still can.”

The Knight did not respond. Instead, he dropped nonchalantly from the dais and slowly closed the gap between the man and him. As he was going to leave the circle of light created by the iris in the ceiling, he turned to Rey.

“Go.”

Hearing his natural voice made her blink. All emotion had left him. There was no animosity, no anger, no passion. He strangely sounded like Master Luke.

“Oh no, she’s going to stay and enjoy the show. One way or the other!” the older man growled while retreating deeper in the shadows.

 


	4. Common enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Today I gave some "life advice" on Tumblr and I couldn't help but feel like a terrible hypocrite because I'm the first one to break the recommendation I'm giving.   
> I often read that writers need to let go of their babies to get better. "Don't look back, continue writing, write new stories." Well, that's exactly what I'm going to do today. 
> 
> The next chapters you're about to read are the original version I wrote in January 2016, with only minor tweaks (grammar and punctuation.) It's not like they're completely unreadable after all and I hope that you'll still enjoy reading the story.

The two men were facing one another, pacing, stalking, circling the chamber and Rey had no idea what was going on. All she knew was that she needed to run, to leave this wretched place and find her way back home. Her mind was screaming to go away, but her body was frozen and refused to flee. Something or someone was preventing her from moving beyond this room.

The stranger talked to her. His weapon was turned off, and she wondered what color the blade would be. She squinted her eyes, trying to have a better look at him. It was pointless. All she could catch were glimpses. From a distance, masked by the shadows, he looked like a Jedi, but she coulnd't help but feel there was something off about his general appearance. For a start, he was wearing odd robes. From the stories she heard and what she had seen on Ahch-To robes worn by Jedi were meant to be made of simple material, to look dull and modest. Even in the dark, illuminated by the reddish glow produced by Kylo Ren’s lightsaber, his looked glossy, silky, the colors too bright, too garish. The man seemed to make of the Jedi dress code a mockery deliberately.

“What of you girl? Are you going to be reasonable?”

She hated it when a man, especially an older man, used that word to address her. More than often the implications were all too clear. How many passing travelers on Jakku had made the acquaintance of her staff and the hard sandy floor for thinking she was weak, foolish, gullible?

“I’m no one’s girl - old man,” she responded defiantly.

“Oh! Spirited, I see. I like that! Don’t worry padawan; the Supreme Leader will make of you a remarkable woman. He loves us. All of us, for who we truly are.”

His voice sounded like poisoned honey to her ears. There was something sweet yet rotten inside.

“Don’t listen,” Kylo Ren interjected, “he’s using cheap tricks to make you believe his lies.”

Shockingly enough Han Solo’s murderer was right. It made her feel sick in her stomach to admit it.

“Am I? You know it’s the truth, Ren. Snoke knows you. He made you. Are you going to throw everything away for that womp rat who ruined your face and made you look like a fool? She doesn’t know half the truth. She’s been fed lies and fairy tales since she was born! Take your legacy back!”

“Silence!”

Kylo Ren was losing his cool. Rey recoiled at the memories of Starkiller base flooding her brain. Nothing good could come from this situation if he were losing control.

“And you? Are you trusting him now? You know what he’s really after, what he wants. What he’ll do to you!”

A shiver traveled down her spine, and her hand clutched tighter at the hilt of her lightsaber, a finger brushing the ignition button. He spoke words she didn't want to say herself out loud.

“Liar!” Kylo Ren screamed with anguish before leaping toward the corner of the room, his fiery weapon drawn high above his head. The faux-Jedi must have had anticipated the move because he vanished just before the furious blow could touch him.

“If you want to play it like that Jedi killer…” the rich voice shouted back out of nowhere.

“I guess dishonesty runs in the family. What to expect from the son of a Rebel whore and a thief? It’ll be my greatest pleasure to erase you from existence.

And you girl, don’t move! You stay here!”

The compulsion was too strong to resist. She wanted to run away, but she was paralyzed.

“How does he do that?” she asked herself aloud.

“Lousy Jedi mind tricks,” came the voice of Kylo Ren from the shadows, “listen to my voice instead. I can guide you.”

This wasn't a reassuring alternative, to say the least. “You need a teacher,” he told on Starkiller base. What if today was just an act? An elaborate trap to mess with her mind and test her allegiance? She started to panic.

“Trust him,” a different voice suddenly echoed in her head. It was familiar, yet estranged. She couldn't put her finger on it but she knew she had heard this voice before. It was speaking with a Coruscanti accent.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice then,” she murmured. “What do I do?”

“The statues. Do you see them?”

“Yes,” she responded with a clear lack of confidence.

“Topple them all.”

She blinked. “What? Are you out of your mind?” she burst out. “I can’t do that!”

“Yes you can,” came Ren’s response between gritted teeth.

A deep laugh echoed in the cavernous chamber.

“Is that you plan Jedi killer? What do you think is going to happen to you if the frightened little girl manages to throw her pebbles at us? You’ll be crushed too.”

“It doesn't matter as long as you finally shut your mouth!”

“How dare you? No, no, no!” the old man responded with anger. “Don’t listen to him girl. I need your help! You hate him. He’s everything you loathe. You can’t trust him.”

She couldn't agree more with that statement, but at this moment, if she wanted to come out alive from this tomb, she would walk the safest path. One step at a time.

It was quick to review the information and assess the situation. She had defeated Kylo Ren on Starkiller base, he had (for a reason unknown to her) spared her life today, and Snoke was distrustful enough of him to send an assassin to finish the job. If she was to tell this incredible, this preposterous story to Finn, Poe, Master Luke and General Organa, it was in her interest to forge a temporary alliance with her worse nightmare. After all, even fire sometimes holds cleansing virtues.


	5. The Force is a powerful thing

 

Ren was dying. Under any other circumstances, the older man who pretended to be a Jedi wouldn't have stood a chance against him in single combat. He lacked strength and relied too heavily on distractions and manipulation techniques. It was different this time. Every synapse in his brain and every fiber in his body were on fire, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend he wasn't going to collapse at any given time. For a very brief moment, he had successfully called on the light side of the Force and managed to hold back the flood of emotions he was drowning in, building a dam, a cocoon inside his mind, in hope to buy some time and scare the assassin away. It hadn't taken long for the ice to crack under the fire burning inside him and his calm demeanor had left the place to rage. Once more.

He was weak in this state, unable to channel the energy. He knew it. Too fragmented to fight properly. If he wanted to survive, he needed the aid of the scavenger girl. No, not a scavenger girl anymore. Rey. It was her name though he couldn't say it. Yet.

He had pushed her off the dais, hoping she would run away, but the old man was craftier than he had given him credit for. They had never met, but Ren didn't need to see his face to know who he was. Despite Hux and Phasma’s best efforts to discourage gossiping, the men and women serving under them were humans and everybody, from the lowest cadet to the highest officer had heard stories about the man who could convince any parent in the galaxy to surrender their Force-sensitive sons and daughters. The Force didn't need the Jedi nor the Sith to produce Force-sensitive individuals after all, and it would be a crime not to harness their potential. Some parents simply needed more "convincing" than others.

The thought of Snoke sending him to retrieve today’s champion sent a shiver down Ren's spine.

“The statues. Do you see them?”

“Yes.”

Her lack of confidence wasn't encouraging.

“Topple them all.”

“I can’t do that!”

Damn you Skywalkwer! He thought. Rey, the scavenger girl who had entered his life like a meteor and altered the course of his destiny, was more than capable of shattering some stone. Why did the Jedi feel the need to pull down, to tether the Force?

“Yes you can,” he had responded, trying not to sound angry at her.

The intruder wanted to taunt him again. He should have ignored it, but the interruption was distracting. “It doesn't matter as long as you finally shut your mouth!” he had finally exploded.

“How dare you? No! No! No!” Don’t listen to him girl. I need your help! You hate him. He’s everything you loathe. You can’t trust him.”

It was true; she had no reason to trust him, he could feel her hesitation. Her emotions were too intimately tied to his now. His own feelings felt numb in comparison. She didn't hate him, though. She wasn't bitter and broken enough to hate anyone. Not yet.

She was thinking. Fast. He couldn't hear her thoughts, but he could be her . He had told her not to be afraid aboard the Finalizer, in the interrogation room. Reading minds was painful, and he hated the reverberation effect. If she was afraid, he was afraid too. It wasn't a pleasant sensation. Now that he was thinking about it, back then her fear was an inconvenience, a side effect he didn't want to experience personally. “Don’t be afraid. I feel it too”. What an insensitive thing to say to a young woman strapped in a metal chair. Now he wanted her to feel safe, to protect her from the stranger but also from himself. It was a very complex thought to digest.

“Don’t think about it. Just do it.”

She was getting annoyed with him now. She doubted herself, and she doubted the Force. How could she possibly do the impossible?

He looked around, trying to come up with an alternative plan. Nothing happened. His cognitive functions were impaired in that emotional state, and they were short of options. He sighed and took a step back. The faux-Jedi planted his eyes on him, trying to decipher what the Knight of Ren had in mind. It wouldn't take long before he figured out he was bluffing and charge. Ren glowered back and slowly, carefully, closed down the distance with Rey.

When he stepped back into the circle of light, he paused, still observing their attacker, and extended his unarmed hand to her.

“We’re going to do it together. Give me your hand.”

She gasped. Her revulsion to the suggestion hit like a punch to the stomach. She didn't hate him but certainly didn't associate his body with something she wanted ever to touch again. Images of his fingers squeezing at her throat flashed in his mind, and he flinched. He didn't know for how long he kept his arm extended like that, but it felt like an eternity. In the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the man sneaking toward them. They needed to act fast before he came too close.

Ren turned off his lightsaber and grabbed Rey by the wrist. “We don’t have time. You’ll need to trust me,” he tried to explain with all the assertiveness he was capable of mustering. With his right hand, still holding the shaft of his weapon, he pointed to two of the four statues. “You take these; I’ll deal with those.”

“Let go of me!” she roared because his grip was too tight. “You’re hurting me.”

He realized that, since their fight in the snow, he hadn't seen her up-close without his vision obscured by the mask. He should have looked away, but he couldn't detach his eyes from her face. Her hazel eyes still puffy, her flushed cheeks tear-streaked and her pink mouth twisted with anger. He let go, unable to withstand the guilt. Still angry, she turned her attention to their common enemy.

  
His heart skipped a few beats when she took his hand in hers.

 

* * *

 

 

Together they could do it she thought. Little did she know that Ren was drained, exhausted and barely able to stand on his feet. Once her weapon was secured to her belt, she had taken his hand in hers.

The leather of his glove felt surprisingly smooth and soft under her fingers. Compared to the old crusty leather accessories she salvaged over the years on Jakku, his were supple, likely new and crafted from the finest materials. It was something silly to think about in their predicament, but she loved making things and knew how to appreciate good craftsmanship. Men and women worked hard to create the things he used and consumed in the First Order, and Maz’s words came to her mind. “I know the Force. It moves through and surrounds every living thing”. She was connected to Ren in this instant but not just him. "Every living creature in the galaxy is linked." What a powerful thought.

The first statue started to shake. The vibration reverberated from bottom to top and the stone cracked under the applied pressure. A wider crack opened at the base. It was working. She smiled a triumphant smile, her eyes bright with a mix of surprise and pride. Then she turned her attention to the second statue.

Ren had simply tried to channel the Force. Instinctively she had intertwined her mind with his and did the same. She was burning so bright inside his head it was blinding. He needed to consume some of her energy, or he would pass out. Like Starkiller base absorbing the sun to power up its destructive weapon, Kylo Ren was siphoning Rey’s Force before channeling it back to the statue. The stone fractured. The ceiling started to shake too, giving alarming signs it was about to cave in.

“The Supreme Leader isn't going to be happy about that kids!” the man said sharply. He knew to keep his distance and looked more concerned about avoiding falling objects and protecting himself from the rubble than attacking. The head of one of the hooded figure came crashing to his feet. He jumped backward, barely avoiding being crushed, but the ground was treacherous, and he lost his footing. He fell head first to the floor. Before he could move and stand up, a boulder fell on top of him, crushing his right leg. The noise of broken bones and torn skin was obscene. He cried out in pain and cursed.

“What do you think is going to happen now? She will never love you back! And you? You think he’s on your side? He’ll use you and then he’ll betray you before crawling back to his Master! Mark my words you fools. You can’t escape the First Order!”

His diatribe brought them back to reality. Absorbed in the demonstration of their shared power they were completely oblivious to the chamber crumbling around them. If they didn't leave, they would be crushed like ants too.

“We need to go!” Rey finally said, breaking contact.

As soon as she let go, Ren felt empty again. He was slowly regaining control over his emotions, but he could still feel hers. The warmth of her happiness took over and made him smile a coy smile.

His heart sank at the idea that she would soon understand she didn't need him at all to accomplish any of this, that he had shown her how to do it, but the power had been hers all along.

He cast the thought aside and tried to concentrate on escaping. Rey was ahead of him. She had run to the stairways and climbed half the steps already. She stopped and turned around. For a reason she couldn't explain to herself, she wanted to make sure he was following. In his weakened state, he had trouble navigating the collapsing place. As he was going to reach the stairs, his foot bumped into something metallic. He looked down, intrigued. Lying on the floor was the mask he had thrown earlier. She observed the scene with a hint of apprehension. He bowed, picked up the mask and brought it to eye level. She sighed and turned around sprinting to the exit.

Rey was running as fast as she can. Behind her, the sound of crashing stone was deafening, but she knew she was safe now. The hallway wasn't as scary as it was a few hours earlier. If she reached the entrance, she would be free.

Then what? She thought. Would someone be waiting for her outside? Snoke even? Was he mad enough to pick one of them himself? She stopped running and looked behind. It was dark, and she couldn't see if Kylo Ren was following.

“Ky…” The name died on the tip of her tongue. She couldn't bring herself to call him like that. “Ren?” she finally whispered before calling out louder. He didn't respond.

She didn't know what to do. The best course of action was to run away, but something at the back of her mind was urging her not to abandon him behind. She tried to ignore it and force herself to continue, but it was useless.

They were connected. One way or the other. They had shared something. Something powerful, universal. Something that transcended who they were as individuals. It was a higher power of some sort, and it bound all beings.

The face of General Organa appeared before her. Eyes swollen by grief, learning her only son was lost forever. Rey didn't have a mother and had never considered becoming a mother herself but in this instant tears started streaming down her cheeks. She was thinking of all the mothers who had had their child ripped from their chests to become Stormtroopers, of all the little girls and boys orphans from the Rebel Alliance. Of the sad, mean, broken men and women some had become. Compassion was a strength, not a weakness. Kylo Ren was an idiot and a bastard, but he was still Leia’s son. She was kind to Rey; she deserved to have her son back.

She was wiping her eyes and her nose with the back of her sleeve when she saw him approaching.

“Will you help me?” came a faint voice.“I won’t make it without you”.

She was relieved when she saw he wasn't wearing his stupid mask anymore. When she realized he was still clutching at it, she couldn't help but snort and roll her eyes.

He knew what she was thinking. He had contemplated leaving it behind but came to the conclusion he still needed it.

His complexion was paler than usual if that was even possible, and he looked almost ghoulish. She put her arm over his shoulder to offer him support, and they continued down the hallway in silence. When they reached the exit their bodies stiffened. Both were expecting a trap. Instead, they were greeted by a violent gust of wind.

Two ships were parked outside the entrance of the tomb, Ren’s own transporter, all black and sleek and imposing and a small shuttle, a little round thing painted beige and gray.

“Let’s take this one,” they said in unison, pointing at the strange looking spaceship. Rey flashed a surprised look at her companion.

“Hux will have planted a tracking device on mine,” he explained, “knowing him, probably more than one,” he added with a rictus. She didn't know the man but she deduced him, and Ren weren't best friends.

They boarded the shuttle. It had enough seats for a pilot and a couple of passengers. It wasn't pretty, but it was practical. Rey immediately jumped in the pilot seat, and Ren didn't seem to object. He dragged his long body to the back and strapped himself in one of the passenger seats.

“We’re going to Jakku,” she declared while turning on the engine. She expected Ren to argue and was prepared to rebuke every single point he was going to make about it being a terrible idea, and Jakku being a terrible place to begin with, but he just nodded and fell unconscious.


	6. Back to Jakku.

All she needed to do was to press a control, and the stolen ship would take them to their destination. Instead, she slipped from the pilot seat, moved to the back and approached Ren cautiously.

What was she going to do with him?

She knelt down and searched for his face, hidden behind messy locks of hair. He was fast asleep. Is this what evil looks like she wondered? Ordinary? Sensitive? Almost handsome? His eyes were moving fast behind his eyelids, and his lips were trembling slightly. He was having dreams. She extended her right hand and resisted the urge to touch his cheek. She didn't want to wake him up; she just wanted to see if she could get into his mind. It would be so easy while he was unconscious. It would be wrong too. After all, he had waited for her to regain consciousness before probing hers, she should return the favor.

She sat down and took her knees in her arms.

Before passing out he had agreed to come with her to Jakku, she wanted to know why. Why would anyone want to go back to Jakku she asked herself? Instead, she could travel to the Resistance base and bring General Organa her son back. She could also run to Master Luke and explain what had happened today, what Snoke plans were. Maybe he would know what to do. She could also try to find Maz and seek her assistance since she seemed to know a great deal about the Force. Extraordinary was her run-of-the-mill lately but, even by her new standards, something weird had happened today.  
What she felt in that tomb, what she felt now...  
A part of her wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but she knew she couldn't afford to make any mistakes. Too much was at stake. It wasn't just her anymore.

She buried her head in her shoulders.

Today’s mise-en-scène could be just that: an act, a very elaborate trick. What if Kylo Ren’s plan was specifically to be brought before General Organa or Luke? What would happen then? Nothing could stop him to call in reinforcements and massacre every living being she had come to like, admire and respect. The energy they had shared earlier was phenomenal. He was incredibly powerful and gifted with the Force. He was also highly unstable and immature.

She still couldn't believe he was nine to ten years her elder. Poe Dameron had mentioned his age in passing on D’Qar. He was very elusive about the subject and seemed extremely reluctant to talk in front of the General, but Rey had detected something. Poe was a very agreeable, if not very charming man, but he wasn't an excellent liar. The way he had quickly changed the subject seemed to indicate they had met under very different circumstances.

She stood up as she was getting pins and needles and there was nothing more to ponder. Jakku was her safest option. On the arid surface, she would have the upper hand no matter what. There are so many ways to die on Jakku if you don't know where you are going or what you are doing.

She went back to the pilot seat, pushed the control button and the stars transformed into rays.

* * *

 

A loud bang echoed when the shuttle entered the atmosphere. Ren jerked off the chair violently, disorientated. He tried to get up, unaware the seat belt was attached, and only managed to bump his head against the durasteel panel above him. Rey’s range of emotions went from fright to relief to glee in less than a second and the whole experience left him a little bit dizzy. That the bond wasn't broken yet was an annoyance, but a part of him was relieved to discover he could make her laugh. The next step was to make her laugh with him, not at him.

“Are we there yet?” he asked trying to sound his usual cool.

“Almost,” she responded without looking back.

The straps came loose, and he approached the cockpit. Without thinking about it, he leaned forward to peek through the window screen, placing his right hand on the console and the left on the pilot seat, just above her shoulder.

Jakku was a pile of garbage.

He hadn't come to this part of the planet during the retrieval operation and certainly never looked at the scenery. Now that the carcasses of the once great Imperial Armada laid bare on the dunes before him he felt a knot in his stomach. Rey was getting nervous too. He looked down and saw her coy on the chair. Suddenly he realized her private space was being invaded.

He withdrew at the back of the shuttle, and she relaxed instantly. He was conflicted. A part of him hated how jittery she was when he was getting close, but another part relished at the idea he had such power over her.

He wondered how long this thing, this bond would last. He also wondered if...No. He blocked the mental image. It was below him, and he felt ashamed of thinking such trivial things.

He was feeling much better, slowly regaining control over his emotions. He wondered if she could feel the same. If the bond was mutual? If it was, how would that work? Would their feelings bounce back and forth between the two of them in an endless loop? Surely the Force wasn't that stupid. It had plans for them.

Absently he ran his hand through his hair. How long since he had done that? Come to think about it, since he stepped aboard the Finalizer a little more than six months ago; he was wearing the mask even in his quarters. He could do with a haircut.

He looked into the cockpit, searching for Rey. From this angle, he could only see glimpses of the back of her neck and her hair. It was still childishly tied in three knots, like the first time they met. She was dirty, more sweat mixed with dust than skin. Most likely he looked a mess too. If Hux were there, he would probably pinch his nose and look at the both of them with disgust. Phasma, on the other hand, would send them to the fresher before the rehabilitation center. Good hygiene was a staple of the First Order. Unkempt soldiers were revolutionary soldiers.

He sat down, unsure of what to do next. He was never good at idle conversation. What about “Hey Rey, how is your neck? Sorry, I squeezed so hard earlier”? Or “By the way, I also kidnapped your Master while we were on Ahch-To, thought you’d like to know.”

No. Not a good conversation starter either. He knew he would have to tell her at some point. Maybe. Did it matter anymore? If Snoke had retrieved him, it was probably too late already. Now he needed to decide what to do on his own. His destiny had not changed, it had only taken an unexpected turn.

His attention suddenly focused on the scavenger. Something was troubling her. Not him (that was a relief). It was something on Jakku. The closer they were from their destination, the stronger her aversion grew.

“We’re here,” she said while preparing for landing.

The sun was high in the sky. He shielded his eyes and looked around, bewildered. They were in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing in sight except for the hulk of an old AT-AT lying on the sand. Instinctively, he grabbed the shaft of his lightsaber. Was she planning to abandon him here?

She tensed but didn't reach for her weapon. “What are you doing?”

“I should ask the same,” he responded warily. Maybe she had fooled him. “What are we doing here?”

“I live here.”

Kylo Ren looked around, again. He didn't understand.There was no house, no hut. Realization only hit him when she crawled and disappeared inside the derelict walker.

He stood there, unsure what to do. Was he supposed to follow?

He jolted and rushed when a long series of cussing erupted from the belly of the metal beast.

He knelt down and peeked inside. If the dwelling had once been hospitable, someone or something had taken every precaution necessary to trash it completely. The floor was littered with metal scraps, shelves had been ripped off the walls and in the corner of the “room” what looked like a hammock hung only by a few threads, completely lacerated. Rey was too busy calling names to notice him. He finally crawled inside on all four, uninvited.

As he was making his way in, something orange, half buried in the sand caught his eyes. He dug up the object and looked at it carefully. It was the makeshift doll of a Rebel Alliance pilot.

“Don’t touch that!” she cried out, snatching the toy from his hands, only to toss it again on the floor, unceremoniously. She couldn'tafford to be sentimental, not now. A wave of nostalgia tainted with despair engulfed him, and he fought the urge to take her in his arms. It would only make things worse. She wanted to cry but she couldn't. Not in front of him. Not now. She was tired, overwhelmed, hungry and her body ached in so many places but, in this moment, he was the last human being she wanted to be with her.

She would change her mind. Eventually. He would find a way.

“We need water and food. Then we will talk,” she declared imperiously. Anything to keep her mind occupied. Dwelling on the past would accomplish nothing anyway. They had much to do.

“Is there anything of use aboard the ship you think? Food or water?”

“Maybe,” he responded, distracted. He had just noticed a panel at the back, with numerous scratches carved in. She snapped her fingers in front of him to bring him back to reality. “Go look!”

The Master of the Knights of Ren wasn't used to be ordered around. His burning eyes pierced right through her. Rey flinched, wondering if she'd pushed her luck too far. They stared at each other in silence for a little too long, before he finally crawled back outside.

He came back a few moments later, with only a canteen of water. He didn't know what she was looking for, but she was frantically scanning the floor.

“That’s all that I could find.”

She examined the container. “This will last us three days”.

Three days? He thought. He could gulp down more than that in less than a minute.

“We’re not going to stay here three days, are we?” he said prudently.

“No, we’re not. We may already have been spotted, and it might get dangerous to stay here too long.”

An awkward silence followed. She finally found what she was looking for on the floor, a piece of metal flat and small enough she could use to unscrew one of the panels in what used to be the ceiling of the AT-AT. Her secret stash was there. Surviving involved having a contingency plan, and she knew no one would be smart enough to ever think of looking there. Remembering why she needed to hide and stock food made her upset. Coming back to Jakku, so close to Unkar Plutt was a bad idea. She wasn't afraid. She just wanted to forget he ever existed and controlled every aspect of her life.

“Here is our dinner,” she exclaimed while tipping the content of a small bag on top of a board she had prepared. It was green and unappetizing.

Ren looked disinterested at the portions. He was very rarely hungry anyway. Asceticism was part of the Jedi way of life but changing side didn't make him suddenly crave exotic food and liquor, on the contrary. He was eating out of necessity, and like many other things people find pleasurable in life, he didn't enjoy it particularly. The food wasn't the only thing he had cut himself from over the years.

“You can have it all,” he said.

“You need to eat too,” she responded a little bit aggravated. “There’s too much for me anyway.” It was a lie. He chose not to argue. The subject was obviously making her uncomfortable, and now that he had witnessed her living conditions, he feared his attitude would be mistaken for rudeness. She would have been surprised to hear he genuinely cared about her predicaments.

It took her a few minutes to find her utensils. Several times she asked Ren to get out of her way.

“Can you go outside?” she had finally asked, “You’re too big, you take all my space.”

Finally, alone, she looked around and sighed. Jakku was no longer her home. She wondered if that bastard of Unkar was still after her and how he would react if he discovered she was back. She poured every piece of veg-meat in the makeshift pan and prepared the sad meal she had been eating for fifteen years. Hopefully, it was the last time she would ever cook that crap she thought, her hand clutching too tightly at the spatula.

Ren was sitting outside in the shadow of the half destroyed AT-AT, rocking gently, with his eyes closed and his arms around his knees. His boots and gloves had been tossed away, and his feet were firmly planted in the ground, his toes buried in the sand. If she didn't know better, he looked like he was enjoying himself.

"The novelty fades away quickly," she snorted while sitting next to him. "Soon, you'll hate that stuff." She placed his plate in-between them before taking a bite from her dish.

“I could kill him for you,” he finally said, his eyes still closed.

She tried to hide her surprise but failed miserably.

“What are you talking about? Are you in my head again?” She exclaimed.

“No, I don’t need to,” he responded monotonously “I’ve been feeling it all since we arrived. Your discomfort when thinking of him. Unless it’s a she?”

He was studying her now, and she couldn't move or speak anymore.

“I think it’s a he. I can feel nausea, the hatred, the knot inside your belly every time you think of him. I’m serious. I could kill him for you.”

“I... That’s not what I want.” She was usually so articulate and confident, but she felt at a loss of words there.

“Why not?” he asked, planting his eyes on her, genuinely interested in her opinion.

For the first time, she noticed the outer rim of his iris was slightly lighter than the inside.

“You don’t just get rid of what annoys you!” she finally blurted out. “What kind of twisted logic of yours is that?” she added and he wasn't sure if she was annoyed or disappointed.

“Why not? If he’s bad enough to make you feel that way, I don’t think anyone will miss him.”

“But you don’t just kill people because you don’t like them or because they don’t agree with you!”

He laughed.

“What’s funny? She asked unnerved.

“You.”

“What? What is?” she was getting frustrated and tried to regain her cool by focusing on her plate. She wouldn't give him the pleasure to fall into his trap. All he wanted was to confuse her, to mess with her head.

“You’re like the rest. You have these big ideas and those great ideals, but you’ll betray them at the first occasion. Twisted logic you say? At least I’m consistent with my belief. Unlike you."

He leaned in a little closer.

“I haven’t forgotten that you tried to kill me the first time we met. You didn’t even know who I was, nor what I wanted, and yet, you aimed to kill.”

Her eyes widen up.

“So keep your morals and your judgments to yourself scavenger. I grew up with stories of heroics deeds, of Death stars, destroyed and evil conquered. I was told that life and freedom are sacred and worth fighting for but what happened as soon as the Empire collapsed? Politicians, conglomerates, bankers ruined it all. Getting rich, fat, exploiting the weak. What did the New Republic do for your world? Nothing! They let your kind starve and be oppressed by a slimy excuse of a life form. You think you’re free, but your freedom tastes like this sand. It’s built on lies, murders, and treason.”

“And what’s the First Order done that was so much better?” she blurted out. “You kill anyone who doesn't agree with you.” She paused, trying to control her emotions “You destroyed five planets? Five! And for what?”

He grabbed her by the shoulders, his body tense and ready to strike.

“I never wanted that,” he hissed back. “Get in my mind if you don’t believe me! I have nothing to hide.”


	7. Some nightmares need to be tamed

“No! I won’t do that. I don’t need to get into your head.”

“And why not?” he retorted.” You have the power, why would you not use it?” Is it Skywalker? Did he tell you to be afraid of who you are, what you can do?”

He knew he was clutching at her shoulders a little too tight, but he didn't care.

“It doesn’t matter anymore! He’s gone now. Him and his stupid views on the Force!”

Rey’s expression suddenly changed. She wasn't angry, she was curious.

“What do you mean?”

Ren released his grip and stood up. He walked a few steps in the direction of the shuttle and froze. He didn't want to look at her, but he didn't want to leave either. With his bare foot, he kicked the sand like a petulant child.

“You were not the only target. My men have him.”

He paused. He expected Rey to get on her feet and attack him from behind, but instead, she stayed silent.

“Where have you taken him?”

He turned around, shaking with rage. He needed to scream at her, make her react. “If you want the information, come and get it!” He couldn't bear seeing her so calm, stone-faced. He wanted her to slap him, to punch him, to hate him. He wanted her to see who he was and to hate him. Hate was better than indifference.

“Is it important to you that I extract the information from you?” she finally asked, impassioned.

He straightened up. He didn't understand the question.

“I don’t care about Skywalker. You do! It makes no difference to me if you manage to discover where he’s being held. Snoke will probably have him by now."

"Good riddance!" he added after a pause.

She stood up and brushed her clothes to remove the sand. She had forgotten how much she hated the stuff. It was invading every aspect of your daily life on Jakku, grinding your teeth when mixed with your food, bruising your skin when the winds were getting too loud, menacing to bury your home every day. She hated sand, but she didn't hate Kylo Ren. It was the strangest epiphany of the day.

She started to walk toward the shuttle-craft. “You don’t believe that yourself, do you?”

“Where are you going?” he asked. It sounded more anguished, more pleading than what he intended to.

She kept walking and responded “I’m going to send a message to the resistance with our current coordinates. Then you will tell me where Luke is and once my friends are here, we will retrieve him. With or without you.”

If it was an order, he couldn't tell. It looked as if his burst of anger had severed the bond. Since he had lost control over his emotions, he was unable to feel hers. He made a ball of his fists, his knuckles whitened, and punched his skull hard. Once, twice. He lost count. What had he done? If he had lost the ability to read her emotions he didn't know what he would do.

He was still standing in the middle of nowhere, his black robes caked with sand floating in the evening wind, bare feet, his face twisted by grief when Rey climbed out of the shuttle. She approached slowly and took his hand in hers.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way. Come.”

He had calmed down a little and couldn't help but feel foolish. He was older than her, but in this instant, he was surrounded by a serenity and a maturity older than times. She wasn't angry, annoyed or repulsed by him; she had compassion for him. Real compassion. It made his head dizzy.

She lead him to where she had left their plates. They hadn't eaten their food, what a waste she thought. The sun was sun setting in the sky, but they were on Jakku, they still had at least two good hours of sunlight. The temperature was getting better too. It was the best part of the day, right before the night. Nights on Jakku were freezing, and they would have to take shelter soon enough. She wanted to be done before the dark.

She sat on her heels, with her hand still holding his, and brought him closer to her level.

“Put your head on my knees,” she said, tapping her lap with her free hand.

He froze. That’s not what he had in mind.

She couldn't read his thoughts, but his face was certainly easy enough to decipher when he wasn't wearing the mask.

“I imagine the First Order instruction books are telling quite a different story, but I can’t imagine mind probing requires the subject to be strapped in a metal chair,” she said jokingly.

“If that’s the case you’re out of luck, I’m not running to Niima Outpost to see if someone salvaged one.”

He felt like an idiot. He should have run away, insulted her, attacked her even. She was treating him like a child when he was not. He shouldn't let her treat him like that, with... kindness. He looked at her. The invitation was tempting. He didn't have to hide with her. No one could see them; they could be whomever they wanted to be.

As instructed he put his head on her lap, lying on his side.

The world looked so different from that angle. He could see far to the horizon; he could see the heat waves dancing above the ground, distorting reality.

She put her hand through his hair, combing it with her fingers in a tender gesture. She imagined it would be something soothing, something nice. She would like someone to do that to her if she was sad, angry or scared.

“Will it hurt?” she asked, concerned.

“No, not really.” He responded quietly. “It only hurts because people resist. They think we’re interested in their petty secrets, that we’re going to expose their little lies. We wouldn’t have to if they were honest from the start. ”

“Who are we ?” She questioned him.

“You, me. Those with the ability. They fear us because we are better, chosen.”

“Chosen by whom?” she was puzzled by his responses but even more by his cooperation.

“If you’re going to read my mind, you should do it properly,” he chuckled. “You can’t just ask questions and have me spill my guts out. Also, you know what. You feel it too. You’ve always been better than everybody else on this forsaken planet. You just refuse to admit it.”

Her stroking stopped for an instant. She was reflecting on what Ren had just said.

“We’re nothing alike,” she finally replied. There was no animosity or reproach in her voice.

He bit his tongue. It was better to let it go for now. Rey firmly believed what she just said, and they would have more opportunities to discuss it. He was sure about that.

“How does it work exactly? I don’t know what I did the last time.”

He flipped on his back, adjusting his body on her lap so he could see her face.

“Do you want to do it? Then just do it. There’s no manual, no instruction. Techniques, maybe, but it’s mostly instinct. It’s like those statues earlier. As soon as you believed you could move them, you did it.”

She stared at him.

“It worked because we shared the flow of energy. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you.”

His eyebrow raised slightly. He wanted to lie and say she was right, that she needed him around. If he did, he would be no better than the likes of Skywalker. He chose to tell the truth only.

“I did nothing. All of it, it came from you. I just…” he stopped. “If you want to know, see for yourself,” he teased.

If it wasn't for the scar, he looked very much like Han Solo when he smirked. She flashed a coy smile in return. She missed the debonair old smuggler.

As instructed, she relaxed and entered his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

It was as he told her. There was no pain, no discomfort. He quietly opened up his mind, and she slithered within. It was like nothing else she had experienced before, being inside someone, not just on the surface. It was a little overwhelming at first but also exciting, intoxicating.

Ren’s memories were scattered around like broken shards.

“How do I access the information I’m looking for?” she asked while stroking his hair absentmindedly.

Ren softened. “I used to imagine memories are holo-vids,” he responded, pleasantly surprised she was requesting his guidance. “You can picture anything. With time it will become easier to browse and find what you are looking for.”

Now that their minds were intertwined, he couldn't peel his eyes off her. Her energy pulsated inside him like wildfire, chasing the shadows away. When he closed his eyes, her presence felt like a beacon, filling the void he had known all his life.

He felt stronger with her. He thought of the Supreme leader. How disappointed he likely was with him. Kylo Ren was dead inside a crumbling tomb and would never become what Snoke had foreseen. He had succumbed, unable to resist the appeal of the light, losing himself in the process.

He also thought of the woman who birthed him, still waiting for a boy she had sent away. Ben was gone and wouldn't come back. He wondered who he was now, who he would become. It didn't matter at this moment in time because as long as Rey was with him, he was complete.

He never wanted to let her go.

Rey drew a long breath and focused. She needed to make sense of her surroundings to navigate the labyrinth of Ren’s mind. She closed her eyes and pictured what she knew best, what she had explored for fifteen, long, solitary, years: the inside of a wrecked destroyer.

It worked.

* * *

 

 

Now, around her were pieces of salvage, machines to be picked apart and reconstructed, holos and memorabilia left to rot, discarded. She pictured a corridor with panels claimed by time and rust, exposed to the elements and worn away by sand. Her journey began next to the breach in the hull. She had seen dozens of starships brought down to the surface in a similar fashion, with gaping wounds on their sides. A door was open to her left; she entered the room. It was a recent memory, the memory of a man standing on his own on the deck of a starship. There were other men and women around him, but he didn't seem to notice them at all. Consoles were flashing and beeping as controls were pressed and excitement was spreading among members of the First Order personnel. They were making history today. It would be a major victory! The figure, clad in black, looked at the scene immobile. Rey approached him, wondering what he was thinking.

“Can I take off your mask?” she asked the real man lying on her lap.

“You can try,” he responded perplexed. He had never tried to manipulate memories or ideas the way she suggested and grew curious. Was it even possible?

She stepped in closer. For some unknown reason, she placed a hand on his shoulder and circled him the way an interested party would examine a droid at an auction house. The man in the memory didn't react to the touch, he stood completely still, frozen in time.

She stood on tip-toe and searched for the release latch on the mask. It came off easily. Rey gasped at the sight. Kylo Ren was crying. It wasn't the sobbing, sniveling cries of a child; it was the silent agony of a man who cannot stray from the path he had chosen. Rey collected tears on the tip of her finger and brought them to her lips. She winced. The Force demanded sacrifices to be made and men and women, like him, to do its bidding.

“You think of the Force like it controls our lives. Like we can’t decide for ourselves?”

Without his mask on to hide his emotions, Ren was painfully easy to read. No one had ever looked at her with such adoring eyes before, and she was unable to say if it was making her extremely uncomfortable or flattered. The way he looked at her reminded her of Unkar Plutt sometimes. It didn't make her stomach turn the same way, though. There was something else in Ren's eyes. A promise, a commitment. He was truly amazed by her abilities; and the lonely little girl from Jakku, who had never been praised nor received encouragement in her life, felt her cheeks turn pink. She wondered if she would ever get used to the intensity of his gaze.

“It does. You know it does.”

“No, I don’t believe that,” she said with false confidence, trying to convince herself more than anybody else.

She switched her attention back to the destroyer.

There was another door, to the right this time. It didn't open automatically but, as soon as she placed her hand on the touchpad on the side panel, it came to life. She recognized the man strapped to the metal chair; it was Poe. Except it was no man, it was a boy of about thirteen or fourteen. Despite the circumstances, he was smiling that pleasant, cheeky smile only popular teenage kids can pull off when they are caught being naughty. A younger version of Kylo Ren was facing him. He was dressed like a padawan and looked upset.

Rey stepped in to listen to their conversation.

> “You know I can hurt you. Why pretend?”
> 
> “Because it’s funny to wind you up, Ben.”
> 
> “We aren't kids anymore. Don’t test my patience; I grew more powerful that you can even imagine. Give me the information and -maybe- I’ll let you live.”
> 
> “No.” The younger version of Poe responded before flashing an arrogant smile.
> 
> “You will regret these words, Dameron” the padawan hissed before raising a hand.

Poe started screaming, and Rey covered her ears, horrified.

“Why are you showing me these things? These aren't your memories.”

“They are. What you see is _my truth_.”

She started to understand.

“So you knew Poe from before! And you still tortured him?”

“He’s the enemy, and we’re at war. Do you think I was recruited to serve tea?” he snickered.

“So, that’s what you’d planned for me?” she asked, disturbed.

“No. I had no reason to wish you harm. I just needed the map.”

“But, I was the enemy.”

“No,” he responded almost gently, “you were a mystery. It is you who decided to become my enemy.”

She stopped stroking his hair. “Where is Luke anyway? I’m not going to go through all your life to find him. Just tell now! I’ve done what you wanted.”

“I’m not going to say anything anymore scavenger. If you want the information extract it yourself.” He already missed the contact of her fingers on his scalp. “You will learn soon enough that you can't count on Luke or the Resistance to get anything done. If you want to do something, do it yourself.”

Rey snorted. Ren was capricious and fickle, and she wanted to get out of his head as soon as possible. Before she found something, she didn't want to see, or worse before she realized she enjoyed messing with people’s minds like he did.

Rey was stubborn, but so was he. He could forgive her lack of refinement; she had been isolated for so long on this forsaken planet, but he would not respond to her questions anymore.

She needed to learn. To understand. Instead, he rolled over, clumsily put his arms around her waist and buried his face in her belly. She was so thin he was afraid she would break if he held tighter. She was strong though. Strong with the Force but also strong willed and athletic.

He closed his eyes. He could hear the gurgling sounds emanating from her stomach. It brought back some ancient memories. Memories of halcyon days, when Leia Organa was his mom. She was always away, angry, busy, but sometimes she would surprise him and let him stay with her in her study. There, when they were finally alone, and she had no more reports to read or sign or write, she would take him in her arms and tell him stories of how she, his dad and Uncle Luke met. When he was tired, he would put his ear on her tummy and imagine a strange ocean inside her, an ocean with crashing waves and whirlpools.

Rey wasn't his mother. Her inside world sounded more like a growling beast ready to pounce. He put his hand on her back tentatively. She didn't flinch, she didn't even seem to notice at all, so he applied a little bit more pressure and brought her body closer to him. She was all he could hear now.

Rey was lost in the corridor, and the further she walked, the darker it became. There were so many doors and she needed to find Luke. She closed her eyes in both the real world and the world of Kylo Ren. If she trusted the Force, maybe it would guide her steps and show where she needed to go.

* * *

 

She took one step, two, three...and fell. If it was a dream it would be the part where she woken up covered in sweat, but it was no dream and instead she ended up in a room with no windows, just rows of empty seats and in the middle an elevated platform, a dais resembling the one in the sepulcher they had escaped a few hours before. She looked around; there was no one else, not even Kylo Ren. Suddenly the blue aura of a giant holo flicked on. A humanoid figure of grotesque appearance appeared and looked right through her. It was sitting on a throne.

“Ah, my apprentice. You brought me the girl.”

“That’s not a memory either,” she lamented, looking around for a way to get out.

The holo quivered, and the figure leaned forward to get a better look at her. An awful grin appeared on his face, and with a wave of the hand, he disappeared. “You can go now.”

Rey was confused but she didn't have time to ponder what this was all about. She needed to find a way out.

She scanned the room until she noticed a door behind her. It was ajar, but something wasn't quite right, it was completely jammed. She pulled as hard as she could to crack it open. All she needed was a little more space to squeeze in, but despite her best efforts, it didn't bulge.

Rey was going to ask why he was resisting if there was something he didn't want her to see when something attracted her attention. Someone was standing in the corridor. She paused and listened. Everything was quiet.

The face of a boy of about ten appeared in the gap. He was standing immobile behind the door, observing Rey. “Hello there,” she heard herself say. He looked like the padawan of her earlier vision, but as she watched more carefully, she noticed his clothes were different, his looks softer, he had dark hair and bright, intelligent hazel eyes. A big smile appeared on his face before he pressed a button on a control panel on his side of the door and ran off before Rey could say anything. She was free.

“Who’s the boy? Was it you?” she asked the real Ren. He remained still, his head buried in her belly.

“He's my son.”

She didn't understand why, but his muffled answer came as a shock, like a cold bucket of water spilled over her head. She immediately withdrew from his head. The idea that, somewhere, some time ago, a woman had laid with Kylo Ren and conceived a child with him made her queasy. She certainly didn't want to see a glimpse of that. Not now.

“Where is he?” she asked despite herself.

Ren rolled over and adjusted himself so he could rest on his elbow and look at her properly. His gaze was still intense, but there was a hint of tenderness in it. Was he thinking of the boy? The way he observed her made her heart beat faster, and she couldn't explain why.

“He’s with his mom,” he responded plainly after a short silence.

She was compelled to ask more, but she resisted the urge. It was Ren's business after all. She shouldn't pry into his private life, however tantalizing it was. There were more important matters to attend.

Luke. She had almost forgotten about him!

“Will you tell me where Luke is?”

He tilted his head, visibly disappointed by the change of subject. She could tell from his expression that he was debating whether to be difficult or insufferable. Whatever the response, she knew she wasn't going to like it.

“No.”

Still a petulant child after all. She started regretting playing along and being nice to him. She was going to argue and smack some sense into him, but he placed a finger on her lips to prevent her from speaking.

“I’ll come with you.”

She was stunned. It wasn't the answer she expected.

He sat up straight by her side, resting his arms on his knees before she could interrogate him further. He looked entirely different now, calmer, at peace. The sun was almost gone now, and the temperature was dropping. He put his hand through his hair and kept it there.

“What happened, what you saw in my head. You can’t tell your friends.”

Rey snorted. “I don’t think they…” she started.

“It’s not that. They won’t understand,” he interrupted.

“I will do what I want, thank you very much,” she retorted a bit annoyed. She wasn't going to let Ren decide what she should or shouldn't do. Not now. Not ever.

He smirked. “It’s just a friendly advice. You can certainly do whatever you want. You learn quick padawan; you’ll understand soon enough why these matters shouldn't be discussed with non-Force sensitive people.” He didn't want to sound dismissive, but he wanted to make his opinion heard.

He got up to his feet, gathered his boots and gloves and walked to the shuttle.

“What are you doing?” she asked abashed. She didn't like the way he had used the word padawan. In his mouth, it sounded like an insult, or worse, like if he was addressing his apprentice. Come to think of it, she probably had learned more from a few hours spent in his company than a couple of months with Luke Skywalker...It was a disturbing thought.

“I’m going to sleep,” he simply responded. She didn't know what to do. She looked at what used to be her home and shivered. She couldn't bear the thought of spending even one more night alone in that thing.

“Wait!” She sprung to her feet and rushed to him. “I can’t let you stay in the shuttle alone,” she blurted out. She felt the need to justify her reasoning. “You might try to contact the First Order.”

They stood there in the sunset for a few seconds. He didn't need to read her mind to know what Rey was thinking in this instant. “As you wish,” he just responded before walking away. He could have teased her or confronted her about her true desires, but he chose not to. He didn't want to embarrass her. There was nothing embarrassing about being afraid of being lonely.

“I’m claiming the pilot seat!” she cheered before sprinting to the ship.

* * *

 

> _“I’m very impressed with you Kylo Ren. The girl is starting to trust you. Bring her to me, and your loyalty will be rewarded. I apologize for not seeing it earlier. No harm will come to her; you have my word. ”_

Ren jolted awake. He had suppressed the sensation of Snoke roaming his dreams and forgotten how alien his presence felt when he was manifesting himself in such fashion. Nowadays the supreme leader didn't need to watch over him like the innocent boy he used to be. He touched his forehead, he was clammy and felt lightheaded. He needed some fresh hair. The lights of the shuttlecraft were dimmed to a minimum, the orange glow just enough to navigate to the control panel. He peeked inside the cockpit before pressing the opening button with his open hand. Rey was fast asleep. She had insisted on staying in the pilot seat, huddle up with her lightsaber “Just in case.” He reckoned their bond was strengthened, but her trust wouldn't come easy.

It was pitch black outside and if not for the howling wind Jakku was as silent as deep space. Ren looked up at the sky. He didn't know the name of the constellations visible from this pitiful planet. He peeled off his clothes until the cold air bit his skin, and meditated until the sun rose.


	9. Peace is a lie

Rey woke up with an ache in her neck. She was still clutching at her lightsaber the way she used to hug her doll when she was a little girl, afraid of the dark and plagued by nightmares. Sleeping in the leather seat of a spaceship wasn't as comfortable as she envisioned, yet, all things considered, she had a good night sleep. She looked through the window screen of the cockpit. The sun was rising, meaning that soon enough the temperature would become unbearable.

She didn't need to scan the rest of the shuttle to know that Ren was gone. There was no reason to become alarmed. He was nearby. She knew it. She could feel him in the Force. Her awareness was growing stronger with each passing day. If it was a good or a bad thing, it remained to be seen… Life as a scavenger was hard, boring and lonely, life as Force user was no better. It only came with more rations of responsibilities and a slice of disappointment on the daily menu.

If it weren't for General Organa and Master Luke, she would probably let Kylo Ren rot on Jakku for a while.

She ogled the control panel. The temptation was strong. She could steal the shuttle and leave everything behind: Jakku, Unkar Plutt, Kylo Ren, the Force... She never asked to become a Jedi in the first place; she had simpler dreams as a child, simpler needs. All she ever wanted was her family to come back. But Maz was right; her family had abandoned her. It was pointless denying the truth any longer. They had left her behind on a dusty, barren planet, in the hands of a sleazy, scummy “businessman.” She had seen so much more of the galaxy in recent days. There were so many planets to chose from, some green, some blue, some tropical, some cold, anywhere was better than Jakku! Who would leave their child behind? Who could?

She stretched, took a deep breath and smiled to herself to chase the bad thoughts away.

You must let go of your emotions.

Today was going to be a good day! The Resistance was coming, Kylo Ren would lead them to Master Luke and General Organa would be reunited with her son and her brother. If they could turn Ren against the First Order, they even had a chance to end the war!

She had no reasons to be sad, angry or mad. Her pesky feelings didn't matter at all. She had a duty to her friends, to the Resistance to an extent. They were her family nowadays.

She had trouble letting go today. When she was caught in the downward spiral as a teenager, she would usually spend her day training on her console or scavenging in the most dangerous parts of fallen destroyers, where no one venture for fear of disasters. She needed to clear her mind, do something.

The door of the shuttle was open. She stepped into the desert and was struck by the heat. Nothing compared to the sensation of feeling your body slammed to the ground whenever you venture from the dark to the light on Jakku. She protected her eyes and searched for Ren. She spotted him in the distance and cursed. Had he gone crazy (crazier?) since yesterday?

“What are you doing?” she shouted in his direction. From where she was standing she could see he was sitting in a meditative stance, with his bare back turned to her, cooking in the sun. Angry that her question was only met with silence, she started walking in his direction. She had much to say about his complete lack of modesty and idiotic behavior! The reprimands died in her throat as she approached. His clothes were lying on the sand, discarded, and it appeared that the Knight of Ren was completely naked from top to bottom. It wasn't the incongruity of his bare flesh that rendered her speechless, though. No one could suspect that, under his clothes, he was hiding implants.

She had seen Luke’s mechanical hand, but this was something completely different. From behind, all she could see a tight black leather harness enveloping his right shoulder and elbow. It was tied under the left armpit by a series of thin straps.

“Admiring your handiwork?” he asked in a monotonic voice. He flexed his arm to demonstrate how the mechanism worked. From that angle she glimpsed wires and pistons crawling under his skin. “I didn’t want to lose the hand, so the medical team came up with...an original design.”

“What are you doing?” she simply responded to conceal her stupefaction. It was her who slashed his face and shoulder to the bone; she didn't need a reminder. Not that she felt sorry for doing it, Ren deserved more severe punishment for hurting her friends. Her only regret was to used the dark side.

“If you stay in the sun like that you’ll get blisters tomorrow.” All sorts of epithets came to her mind, but she refrained calling him names. She needed his cooperation until further notice.

He snickered. “Are you interested in my well being or are you afraid I won’t help you? Fear leads to anger you know...” There was a particular cruelty in the way he spoke that made her flinch. She was getting nervous, fidgety, Ren could feel it. He wanted it that way. She should be afraid around him.

“Why do you want me to be afraid?” she shot back.

Her patience was growing thin, and they had no time for charades. She had agreed to get inside his head, to be nice and caring like his mother would be, like no one had ever been to her, hoping he would come to his senses. The Resistance would be here soon. He didn't deserve any more crumb of her compassion. If she had to extract the location of Luke from his head, so be it, she would give him a taste of his own medicine. She would dig until he had no secrets, she would claw at his core and made him cry for mercy.

At these words, she felt a shift in him, right before he jumped to his feet and turned around to face her, his eyes full, not in surprise but mad with joy. The acknowledgment of a shared secret.

Her heart skipped a few beats seeing him like that.

She tried to hide her embarrassment by looking away. She had seen a lot of things in her life, but a naked man wasn't on the list. He closed the distance between them in just a few steps and stopped inches from her, leaving her no choice but to look up. The only way to avoid meeting his delirious gaze would be to turn around, to run away. She wouldn't give him the pleasure. She wouldn't shy away, not today, not ever.

His pale body was covered with scars -old and new- and freckles, a lot of them. She looked at his right arm more attentively and noticed an intricate network of tubes, wires, and pistons piercing the skin, right under the collarbone and inside his forearm. It looked unnecessary painful.

“Snoke wants you,” he finally said, studying her face. “But I won’t let him have you.”

He suddenly sounded awfully anxious and she wondered if he remembered he was naked.

“What are you talking about?” she snapped.

“He spoke to me, in my dreams. He asked me to bring you to him, that he would forgive me and that no harm would come to you.”

She laughed. Not because the story was funny, but because she knew he wasn't inventing any of this. It was preposterous. It was mad. It was all true.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because it’s no use to lie to you, is it?”

She desperately tried to keep a straight face. She was painfully aware of what he wanted to hear.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t feel it.”

Her silence betrayed her more than words. She didn't know what to say. Maybe he was right. Maybe they couldn't escape their destiny.

She blinked twice. The first time they had been so close, right before she slashed his face, she had felt a part of him becoming a part of her.

“What are you going to do?” she finally asked.

“I don’t know. That’s why you need to train.”

She cocked her eye. The softness of his tone contrasted with the absurd notion of the words he spoke.

“You need to be able to defeat me next time we fight,” he added, hoping to make more sense.

“Next time?” she scoffed. “Sounds to me that you've already made up your mind.”

He shook his head “No.”

Once again she knew he was telling the truth. It was infuriating. She wanted to punch him and tell him to pick up a side already, to stop acting like a self-absorbed child, to stop toying with her. Her fists balled up in frustration.

He leaned toward the pile of clothes lying at her feet. She should have moved aside and given him some privacy. It would have been the polite way to do, the proper way. Instead, she observed him dressing up. She wasn't embarrassed anymore. She had seen more than skin.

“Keep that anger for our fight. You can use it,” he announced casually while putting his black leather pants back on.

“What if I don’t want to fight?” she replied with a hint of insolence.

“Then I’ll walk the easy path. I’ll bring you to Snoke, and I’ll take you as my apprentice. If he allows it.”

“The easy way you say? The easy way would be to go back to your family! To your mother!”

Something in him changed at this word. She felt overwhelmed by a strange combination of anger, resentment, and love.

“She needs you. She wants you despite all your crimes!” she continued, angry. There were so many slurs she wanted to throw at him. Instead, tears of bitterness and frustration filled her eyes.

“Never mention my family,” he hissed back. “Did you imagine I would follow you to wherever the pathetic Resistance is playing hide and seek after rescuing your Master?” he quizzed her. “Because I never agreed to that.”

She could feel his temper rising and something equally compelling growing in the pit of her stomach. She raised her hand and channeled the Force into a mighty blow. He barely reacted to the shock.

“You use the word Master like you use Padawan. As an insult. You would rather crawl back to Snoke, your “Supreme leader,” rather than to look to your mother in the eyes and beg forgiveness?” she wasn't trying to hide her contempt any longer. He was weak, foolish, unworthy.

“Not everyone is lucky enough to be abandoned,” he sneered.

At these words, he felt to his knees, slammed to the ground by an invisible power.

“Good!” he exclaimed. “Channel your anger.”

“Stop that!” she shouted back, suddenly aware of what she was doing. She didn't want to fall into his trap. She refused to follow him in the dark.

He straightened up and passed his hand through his hair.

“Did you survive on this shit hole by farting rainbows?”

The bantering remark took her completely by surprise. Despite herself, she laughed.

“What?” she managed to articulate.

“Oh, you probably don’t know what a rainbow is,” he added, mimicking a pedantic Coruscanti accent.

“I know what a rainbow is!” she reacted, making a face. I just haven’t seen one, she thought to herself.

“Well then. Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Have you survived this long by not having emotions? By not being angry, upset, hopeful?”

She knew where he was going with that. She wasn't sure if she wanted (if she needed ) to hear it today.

“I’m teaching you how to defend yourself. Against me. I’m not recruiting for the Dark side if that’s what you’re thinking.”

She only stared at him in silence, trying to think of a witty comeback. She hated how he made her feel. Creatures ought to be scary. Not making jokes and trying to be witty.

He spun on himself in a dramatic gesture. “We’ll start with a simpler exercise. The walker.”

Ren had her full attention now. He nudged at the bond between them to tune himself to her frequency. He could feel her interest, mixed with curiosity. She was so eager to learn new things, master new techniques. It made her happy. Before he knew it a smile formed at the corners of his lips.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked

“I want you to disassemble it. Make it a pile of junk.”

“Can you do that with the Force?”

He closed down the distance between them and came to stand right by her side.

“There’s nothing you can’t do. You’re only limited by yourself. Soon you’ll need to make your lightsaber. It’s the same technique. But backward.”

His teaching methods were lacking pedagogy, to say the least, but Rey didn't need many instructions when she had direct access to his mind.

She focused and imagined a blueprint of the AT-AT, every bolt, every screw, every durasteel panel, all connected. She imagined all parts becoming loose, moving independently from one another. The hulk of her former home started quivering under her invisible touch, before collapsing in the sand in a pile of scraps. She couldn't believe her eyes. She turned to Ren with a proud grin on her face. How incredible was that? The smile and tender gaze he shot her back made her blush. She wanted her master to look at her this way, not her enemy. Her smiled disappeared. Luke wouldn't approve of her using her powers like this. It wasn't proper. It wasn't the ways of the Jedi.

As she was moving away from him, trying to create a distance between the two of them, he lifted his right hand swiftly, and, with a skillful gesture, snatched her hair tie. Long dusty strands of hair fell on her shoulder as the lowest of her hair buns was gone.

“Hey!” she cried out as she saw he was tying his hair into a little bun on the top of his head.

“Your next exercise will be to get it back,” he declared.

She was going to jump on him and teach him what happens to thieves on Jakku when the humming of a ship engine disrupted the silence of the desert.

The resistance was approaching.

* * *

 

A transporter docked nearby. It was a medium sized heavy carrier, built for war. Rey couldn't contain her excitement any longer; she ran to meet its occupants.

Seeing her running away from him scorched Ren’s, heart. He remembered the words of the assassin. She will never love you. It was true; she would never love him the way he wanted someone to love him. He stood no chance to win her as long as the members of the Resistance were alive. He clenched his fists and severed the connection between them. She didn't need to know the depth of his jealousy and hatred for her friend the traitor.

“Time to pack, I see,” he said while disappearing inside the stolen shuttle.

Rey didn't need for the transporter’s hatch to open to know who was behind. She readied herself. Too much time had passed since they had seen each other. They had so much to catch up! She wanted to hear everything about his recovery and how things were going on D’Qar at the Resistance base. Had Poe taught him how to pilot an X-wing? How were BB-8 and his master doing? What was the General’s reaction when she heard Kylo Ren was coming home?

The trapdoor was agonizingly slow to open unless it was her who was too impatient.

“Rey!”

“Finn!”

She would have run and flown into his arms if he wasn't flanked by twenty heavily armed Resistance fighters. She should have known they wouldn't be alone; this was no ordinary mission after all. She admonished herself for imagining it would be a happy reunion. A simple extraction.

Finn saw her hesitation and heartbreak. He broke from the group of soldiers and ran to her. She noticed that he was still wearing Poe’s leather jacket and it made her smile, though it had been roughly patched. Being in each other’s arms felt familiar and comforting. They hugged for a very long time and broke contact with reluctance.

“How are you doing?” he heard himself asking, looking for her face. She was the same Rey he had met on Jakku, except for a little something in her eyes. Finn couldn't quite put the finger on it. It was subtle. A pang of sadness, a gravity that wasn't there before.

“Are you okay? He asked, pointing at the strands of hair falling on her shoulders. “Where is Kylo Ren? Did you hurt him?” He lowered his voice, “tell me you hurt him.”

“No!” she said laughing, "I mean yes I’m okay and he’s okay. I think. He’s in the shuttle.”

At these words, Finn turned around and gestured something to his men, who immediately responded to his orders. They ran past them and took position, encircling the small ship’s entrance.

“Finn, I don’t think it’s necessary,” she tried to explain. She didn't mean that Ren would cooperate, just that this small amount of men armed with blasters wouldn't be able to take down Kylo Ren. The young man looked puzzled at the remark.

“I have my orders, Rey. But don’t worry, the General wants him alive, if possible. We can leave this forsaken place as soon as possible and go back to a rendezvous point”.

Rey’s expression changed.

“What is it Rey?” he asked, suspecting he wasn't going to like the answer.

“We can’t go back now; we still need Kylo Ren. We need him to find Luke.”

Finn’s mouth dropped open; he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“Do we need him in one piece for that?” he tried to joke. Rey glared at him, she knew he was only trying to make her feel better, but it was no joking matters. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he added in a youthful voice.

“What are we going to do then?” he inquired. Rey was going to reply when they heard the noise produced by twenty weapons raised in the air at the same time.

They gasped in unison. A tall figure, cloaked in black from tip to toe, had emerged from the little ship and was walking imperiously in their direction, utterly indifferent to the soldiers and their weapons.

Finn clenched his fists at the vision. He hadn't forgotten how Kylo Ren had toyed with him before slicing him up, leaving him for dead in the snow. If it weren't for Rey, he would have died on Starkiller base.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” a digitalized voice resonated, “we’re going to rescue Luke Skywalker.”

{FIN - Part I}


End file.
